Three Little Starfleet Men and the Big Bad Klingon
by Needing-To-Shut-Up-But-Unable
Summary: Basically it's the story of 'The Three Little Pigs' but Star Trek style. Written for MissRed666's birthday but I didn't finish it in time, so happy belated birthday anyway! First in my Fairy-tale Series.


Not Mine, Never Mine, Usual Disclaimers.

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A/N: If anything seems improbable, I used literary licence to make it fit with the theme of the three little pigs and I apologise. Also this was supposed to be Enterprise, not AOS, but then I got told that a certain someone wasn't the greatest fan of Enterprise, so I rewrote it.

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Once upon a time, Starfleet ordered a new type of space shuttle to be built, which was to be tested by the crew of _The Enterprise. _This shuttle was nothing like any shuttle before it; it could accommodate up to a dozen crew members, although it only needed a minimum of three. There were four beds at the back, for rotational purposes, an oversized torpedo chute attached to the underside, and even a small kitchen area. There was much excitement about who would be able to test the shuttle, as orders were to test it with both maximum and minimum capacity. Captain Kirk decided that the first flight would be manned by minimal crew, and selected Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu, and Montgomery "Scotty" Scott for the task.

Chekov went because the navigation systems were more complicated that the old models ever where, and needed an experienced hand. Sulu was sent because he was the best damn pilot in the 'fleet, and if anything were to go wrong, they would have to do an emergency landing on the nearby planet. Scotty was sent because if anything did go wrong, he would be the one to fix it, that and the Captain knew he would in trouble if he didn't, judging by the way the man was practically drooling over the craft. Spock was passed up, as he was the man, well half man, half Vulcan, that could be relied on to recognize, and alert the craft of any potential problems in the surrounding space. This arrangement was organized t so that everyone played to their strengths and ensured the greatest odds of success, and besides, the Captain was adamant that he and Spock would be a part of the maximum crew trial run.

So here were our three little Starfleet officers, out to make their mark on history, or at least avoid crashing the shuttle. They had successfully completed their test flight and were heading back to _The Enterprise_, when the warning came through.

'Spock to shuttle One, we are reading an unknown vessel into your vicinity.'

'Copy that Commander, we have nothing as yet on our scanners,' Sulu replied.

'Ve need to be clowser to zee it on our scanners,' Chekov confirmed.

'Shuttle One, the ship is headed straight for you, it appears to be Klingon in origin,' Spock's voice came through the speakers.

'Klingon wha' they doin' out 'ere?' Scotty wondered, just as there was a nasty bang from the rear.

'Shuttle One to _Enterprise_, we are taking fire, repeat we are taking fire,' Sulu called, swerving randomly to avoid future blasts.

'Copy that,' Kirk responded, 'Damage?'

'Minimal, Glancin' blow,' Scotty yelled as there was another bang, 'correction, navigation bin hit!'

There were alarms blaring from the console, and the scanner showed the ship that had been firing on them, circling in closer.

'Hang on!' Sulu yelled, jerking them to the side, accelerating as he did so.

Alarms were growing louder as the helmsman began to lose control of the ship, fighting to keep the shuttle from hitting the ship.

'Ve're heading vor the planet,' Chekov informed, using the scanners to compensate for the loss of navigation.

'Shuttle... _Enterprise_... attack...' Kirk's static voice came through communication, before the whole array went dead.

The shuttle lurched, creaked and groaned, as it hurtled its way through the outer atmosphere of the planet. Restraints were engaged as Sulu struggled to control the shuttle as it neared the ground at an alarming rate; it hit something like water, before rocketing back upwards, slamming into something solid, skidding for a few seconds before coming to a complete halt.

Assessing the damage both inside and out took less than a half hour, and the prognosis was grim. The shuttle was miraculously still intact, with the hull damage more superficial than anything else, as whatever was used to shoot at them seemed to create havoc in the electronics beneath the hull, than the hull itself. There was damage from the crash, the torpedo tube was now sticking upwards like a cannon, still usable but without ammunition, as they didn't think to bring any. Unfortunately, this had caused massive damage to all systems, the damage spreading until the entire shuttle was dead. The only still functioning system was to the hatch leading out, since it was on a separate loop, for an unknown reason.

It was now that the three of them began to argue, for that they had different ideas as to what to do next. They were in agreement that they were likely to be there for a while, especially if _The Enterprise_ really was under attack. The planet was fit for human habitation, yet was uninhabited, which was part of the reason this area of space was chosen for a field test. The patch that they had landed in was some kind of valley as there were mountains in the distance, in every direction. There was a large lake with several rivers feeding into it, rocky outcropping every hundred feet or so, and copse of trees here and there.

Scotty wanted to stay with the ship, insisting that it was possible to revive some of the systems, and send out a distress beacon for help. Sulu and Chekov argued that a distress beacon was just as likely to attract the Klingon, as it was _The Enterprise_, not to mention that just staying with the ship would spell trouble if the Klingon returned. The shuttle had been well stocked with supplies, but if they were going to be here for any length of time they would need more. Scotty insisted that if they could get the replicator working again, they wouldn't need more supplies for weeks. Sulu and Chekov argued that it was better safe than sorry, and that they needed to find food elsewhere. At last, they decided to part ways, the supplies were divided equally between the three of them, and Sulu and Chekov followed the closest river upstream, while Scotty watched them go.

The sun had been high in the sky when they had crashed, and it was already beginning to sink lower on the horizon.

'Ze day must be shorter here,' Chekov commented.

'We should find shelter soon, who knows what kind of animals roam about after dark,' Sulu remarked, keeping an eye out for a cave or something similar.

They walked in silence for a while longer; it had been about four hours since they crashed, nearly three since they left the shuttle, and it was already dusk. The two of them spotted the opening at the same time, a dark splotch against the white stone that surrounded it. The two of them ducked under the low opening and took a look around a fair sized cave, doing a quick perimeter check as they went. They spent the six hours of night time, alternating between sitting watch and napping, and come morning, a new argument arose.

'The rock is solid when you cut it with a knife, but under phaser fire, it cuts easily. We could use our phasers to carve a plug for the entrance. It would be tight enough so you can't pull it out, hollowed out so it can be moved, with a handle on the cave end so that it can be moved. And look, there's even this small opening above us. If we ran into trouble and needed to escape, we could do so through here.'

'Ah Hikaru, but vhen it rains, ze cawve vill fill vith vater.'

'Well, what do you suggest, going back to the ship with Scotty?'

'No I zink ve zould build our owvn zhelter.'

'I'm not building my own shelter, not when I've got a perfectly good one right here.'

The fight continued until it became clear that neither man would budge in his decision, and so the remaining supplies were split between the two of them and Chekov departed further up the stream. Chekov walked until he came across a large copse of trees, suitable, not only to build a shelter from, but the trunks were close enough together that they could be part of the shelter itself. The Russian hummed as he worked, and as night fell completed his shelter, that was weather proof, and offered protection from the as yet to be seen wildlife. Chekov checked the time, realising that it had not taken as long as he had first thought, the day on this planet was fourteen hours, eight of light and six of dark. Chekov ate some food and dragged out a blanket from his pack, curling up under it and falling asleep easily.

Late the next day, he heard what sounded like an engine flying overhead, and Chekov rushed out of the copse to look for it, but saw nothing. Shrugging of his disappointment, Chekov put the incident out of his mind until he heard footsteps nearby, and caught sight of a Klingon warrior headed his way. Acting instinctively, Chekov barricaded himself into his shelter, wishing that he had headed Sulu's idea and stayed in the cave.

'Little Starfleet man, little Starfleet man, let me in,' roared the Klingon in heavily accented standard.

Trying not to giggle at the three little pigs parallel, Chekov responded, 'not by the hair on my chinney, chin, chin.'

'Then I will hack my way in!'

Chekov gasped, and grabbed his pack, abandoning the blanket on the floor, which his phaser was currently hidden under, and squirmed his way out of the shelter, running as fast as his legs would take him, to the safety of Sulu's cave.

'Zulu ze Klingons are coming!' Chekov cried, as he saw his friend.

Sulu gasped in shock, 'get the door.'

Chekov and Sulu hauled the carved stone into place, blocking the entrance to the cave nicely, the two officers collapsing in the darkness of the cave. The two of them fell into a light slumber throughout the night, awoken by the sound of snapping metal and a Klingon curse.

'I drained my phaser carving the door, do you have yours?' Sulu asked as Chekov shook his head sadly.

'Little Starfleet men, little Starfleet en, let me in.'

'Not by the hair on our chinney, chin, chin!' both Sulu and Chekov responded, giggling like children.

'Then I shall blast my way in!'

Both men heard the whine of a phaser-type weapon powering up, and remembering the effective use of a phaser to carve the door, bolted for the exit in the ceiling. Both men ran with the cries of the Klingon ringing in the background, keeping the river in sight as they raced back towards Scotty and the crashed ship. They ran into their friend just before they reached the ship, leaping over a small outcropping of rock, startling the Scotsman.

'Wat yea doin' 'ere?'

'Ze Klingon is coming.'

'It's going to kill us.'

Scotty stared at them open mouthed for a moment before turning and leading them back into the shuttle.

'Iz it fixed?' Chekov asked hopefully as the hatch closed.

'Kitchen, an' bathroom,' Scotty said sadly.

'How about the torpedo tube?' Sulu inquired.

'Shoots, but we 'ave no ammo.'

'How about a Klingon?'

'Ah Hikaru, you are ze dewil.'

Sulu grinned wickedly and both Scotty and Chekov couldn't help but smile in return, it would feel good to get one over he who had blasted them out of space.

There were footsteps and banging on the outer hull, 'little Starfleet men, little Starfleet men, let me in.'

'Not by the hair on our chinney, chin, chin,' the three men chorused amidst laughter.

There was a dull thud and a curse, 'I will find my way in.'

The three men listened to the thuds, footsteps, and occasional curse that could be heard from the exterior, until finally it came from beneath their feet, as the shuttle rolled slightly to one side.

'Finally,' Sulu breathed.

Scotty crossed to a small screen that flickered and blinked at them, inputting commands, slowly as the screen was prone to freezing for several seconds at a time. There was nothing for a while, the noises from below ceasing as well, the resulting silence oppressing and ominous.

'Iz zat it?' Chekov finally asked.

A shudder tore through the shuttle as something moved from under them, and the three of them hurried to open the hatch, just in time to see an object flung high into the air, on a trajectory with the distant mountains.

Scotty uttered a low whistle, 'gotta hurt.'

There was a low crack which echoed throughout the valley, causing all three men to involuntarily flinch at the sound.

'I think he might be too dead to care,' Sulu commented offhandedly, voice cracking slightly.

The three men watched for a little while longer, before heading back into the downed shuttle craft and awaited their rescue. Three planet side days later and help arrived; the shuttle was retrieved while the three men were beamed aboard. As the three men debriefed, Captain Kirk sat straighter in his chair and his eyes gleamed as he listened to their words.

'We need to build a Klingon cannon. Spock how hard would it be to install one of those on board?'

'Illogical.'

'Aw, but Spock...'

Lieutenant Uhura hid a smile behind her hand as her boyfriend and captain bickered and the three men took their leave. The next day _The Enterprise_ left the system and headed back to HQ, in order to drop off the smashed shuttle to be rebuilt. They all lived happily ever after. Or at least until their next mission of course.

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A/N2: So this is the first story of a fairy-tale series that I'm working on, each story a stand alone, every story will have a different main pairing, except this one, which I'm calling Gen. even though there is a passing reference to Spock/Uhura.


End file.
